


Mixed Signals

by orphan_account



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 19:38:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Richard had been just about to get into the shower when he heard Jeremy come into the hotel room. By the time he was finished, he was sure Jeremy would be asleep, or at least pretending to be. He had half a mind to let him, as much of a bastard as he'd been for the last few hours. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Unfortunately, Richard had also been a bastard.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mixed Signals

**Author's Note:**

> (In my head canon, there are no wives. No one's cheating here.)

Richard had been just about to get into the shower when he heard Jeremy come into the hotel room. By the time he was finished, he was sure Jeremy would be asleep, or at least pretending to be. He had half a mind to let him, as much of a bastard as he'd been for the last few hours. 

Unfortunately, Richard had also been a bastard. There was only one thing to do for that. With droplets of water still clinging to his shoulders, he toweled off his hair, pulled on his shorts, let himself out of the steam-filled room and approached the bed Jeremy was snuggled down in.

They had developed rather a habit of resolving tensions between them through touch, either with somewhat combative sex or by simply with going to bed together and behaving as though everything were fine. By the next morning, it generally would be.

But this night he hadn't even put his hand on the bedclothes when the man muttered: 

"What part of _fuck off_ didn't you understand?"

Richard should've bristled at that, but Jeremy sounded so much like a four year old fighting sleep that he couldn't be all that angry. 

Shaking his head, Richard just went around to the other side of the other bed -- his bed, apparently -- and began to busy his hands with unpacking his clothes for the morning.

"Well," he said, finally, "the second part, I understood that completely." He smiled to himself, thinking off how many _sod off_ s and _piss off_ s had come out of his own mouth all day. "The first part, though, is still rather a mixed signal, I'm afraid."

"Richard."

"Seriously?" He turned to face Jeremy's bed again, throwing a pair of jeans and button-down shirt onto his own. "If we'd actually had a fight -- or even a legitimate disagreement -- I'd be quite happy to confine myself to my very own squeaky little small double, but we were just having a stupid argument about nothing. And why? Because we're tired and bored, and we just want to go home. If you can honestly say you'd like to make two minutes of shouting about windscreens into something we'd classify as a fight, then I’m sure I—"

"Hammond," he broke in, adding a weary sigh for good measure.

"Clarkson."

"I am indeed tired."

Richard raised an eyebrow. "But are you bored?"

"No," he said in a huff.

"Falsehood."

"You hope."

"I hope," he said with a smile and a nod.

As he finished arranging his things for the morning, going back and forth to the bathroom, he stopped at the foot of Jeremy's bed. 

"Why are you all bundled up in the blankets?"

"It's bloody freezing in here."

"I'm perfectly warm."

"I would be, too, if I'd been able to have a fucking shower."

"Go take one."

"Too sleepy now."

"Let me come warm you up, then, old man."

"Sod off," he muttered, but there wasn't much heat in it.

Richard grinned, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the doorframe. "Look, if you're bound and determined to be a big irritable baby, we can do that. I'm perfectly content to put up with your nonsense if you'll just let me be the small spoon for a while."

At that, Jeremy finally sat up. He was bare-chested, probably in nothing but his pants. Richard didn't even care how popsicle-like the man's skin would probably be: fuck it, he'd missed him. Sure, they'd been cooped up together for three days, but it had been three long days in front of a camera. Jeremy had to have been to be feeling it, too, because he gave him a small smile.

"Your relentless optimism is exhausting, Hamster. But it's probably also why you're willing to sleep with me in the first place, so I suppose I could attempt to be civil."

Richard snorted. "Wouldn't want you to strain anything."

Giving him a martyred grimace, Jeremy said, "I am definitely not up for anything acrobatic."

"What are you _up_ for?"

"Nothing, as of yet."

"What if I told you I was thinking about you while I was in the shower."

"Promising start."

"I could've had a wank, made you listen."

Jeremy raised an eyebrow, and while he didn't exactly smile at that, he stopped frowning.

"You forget two things: my hearing is shit and you're not an exhibitionist."

"I could be an exhibitionist."

"No, you couldn't. I mean, c'mon, love, you put your pants on before you came out here, despite the fact that you're apparently trying to clumsily seduce me." At that, he finally smiled. "And all that you're covering, I've seen those bits before."

"And they're not particularly interesting bits anyway."

"I wouldn't say that."

"No?"

He shrugged and said, "I sort of find a naked Richard Hammond intensely interesting." 

Apparently, that was true, as determinedly as he was staring at him now. There was the slightest hint of mischief in his eyes, which was enough to be more than a little exciting. 

Jeremy asked, "You didn't actually wank in the shower, did you?"

"No. And not because I'm a prude."

"Course not," he replied in mock seriousness.

There was only one response to having the man push all your buttons at once: let him. And do it in a way that damn near gave him a heart attack.

So Richard simply tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and shucked them to the floor.

He wasn't hard yet, which made the whole thing a bit weird, but there was no turning back. He had to commit to it, so he stared pointedly at Jeremy and gave him a smirk of challenge. He didn't exactly know what to do with his hands, so he let them drift down to his sides. He could feel a flush on his face which was quickly moving down and spreading over his chest. 

Jeremy stared for a long moment, then he pushed the blankets down to his feet. Richard could see that he had already worked a hand down under the waistband of his briefs. He gave himself a few slow strokes, then, eyes never leaving Richard's body. That was definitely beginning to make his own cock take interest. When Jeremy finally groaned, softly but from deep in his chest, Richard felt his cock throb to full hardness, and he instinctively grasped it in his hand, giving it a long tug. 

He was already touching himself before it occurred to him to be all awkward and weird about it. Jeremy moaned a little louder, undoubtedly to get his attention, but Richard didn't allow himself to look. In fact, Richard stilled the stroking of his hand and just let his thumb come up to tease at his foreskin. He wanted to see if he could get Jeremy to talk just by ignoring him. It didn't take long.

"Bloody tease," Jeremy murmured.

"You've got your hand on your prick, too."

"I'm not putting on a show."

"You could," Richard said, finally looking up at him again, his gaze finding blue eyes gone dark, pupils blown, before it drifted lower, over a hairy chest and down to a hand in his pants, still slowly rubbing up and down.

"You'd really want to see that?" Jeremy asked, still staring at him fixedly.

"Very much, actually."

Jeremy frowned a bit skeptically, but he didn't hesitate to push down his underwear and take himself in hand again. He closed his eyes and worked his long flushed cock slowly. His grip was a little tighter, a little rougher than Richard knew he usually liked. Maybe he was indeed putting on a show, but it was more likely he was trying to forestall an orgasm.

Richard, for his part, was still touching his own cock, not fully stroking so much as exploring, teasing. It was just this side of maddening, but the effect on Jeremy was worth it. Normally, they'd be reaching for some slick right about now, but Jeremy was so turned on his hand was slipping easily up and down. It wasn't long before Richard, too, was slick and wet and biting his own lip, trying to think of anything that might keep him from going off. Luckily, the chill in the room was beginning to bother him enough it might help in that department.

"So," Jeremy said, "are we going for the full show here, or would you like me to save the finale?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"Whether you want to fuck me."

Jeremy sighed and closed his eyes, although his hand never stopped.

He said, "Want to and have the energy to are completely different things."

"Agreed."

After a moment, Jeremy propped himself up on one elbow, allowing the other to leave his cock and absentmindedly stroke his stomach. 

"Richard."

"Mmm?"

"While I am very much enjoying getting to look my fill at you instead of having you immediately hide yourself under three layers of blanket, it's still bloody freezing in here, and I've wanted to put my hands on you about a thousand times today. So I think you should come here right now before you freeze your bollocks off so we can make a mess of this bed and then collapse into an exhausted heap until morning."

Jeremy flopped back onto the pillow.

"That seems like a reasonable plan," Richard replied, giggling and climbing onto the end of the bed. But he paused there, watching Jeremy's hand drift back to his cock.

Jeremy quickly frowned and said:

"Get up here now, or I swear I'll finish myself off while you watch and then refuse to lay a finger on you."

"I'd like to see you try," Richard said, but he was already moving.

Richard quickly crawled forward and stretched himself out over the man, tucking his feet under the covers as he did. As their bodies came together, Richard's legs threading Jeremy's, Jeremy groaned and clutched him around the waist. Almost instantly, those rough hands slipped down to Richard's ass and he was pulling him in just right, grinding against him. Cock to hipbone, hipbone to cock – it was bloody perfect.

As Richard began to nip and lick at Jeremy's collarbone, his tongue tasting salty sweat and a familiar musk, he felt the blankets being pulled up over his shoulders. No, this was bloody perfect. The blankets were warm from Jeremy's body, which wasn't actually that cold to the touch. Together, skin to skin, it was too much. Richard felt hot all over. 

Jeremy writhed against him, hands back on his bum again, teasing just for a moment at his arsehole. Richard moaned against his neck and Jeremy's hips shifted up against his, and suddenly they were rutting a bit desperately.

"Oh God," Richard moaned. "You remember this next time you'd rather be cross than get laid."

"I can easily do both, apparently."

"Fuck," he said. His hips stilled for a moment as his body gave a shudder. "If it's this good, I don't care."

Feeling more than hearing Jeremy's giggle in response, Richard pulled back a little, but only so he could finally bring their mouths together. After a long, deep kiss, familiar and familiarly combative, he pressed a hand into Jeremy's chest and pushed himself up and back. Sitting up now, he panted and closed his eyes and tried to collect himself or else this would be over all too soon. His nerves were too frayed, and this was entirely too good.

He felt Jeremy's voice rumble against his hand: "Bloody hell."

His eyes flew open. Jeremy was staring at him with a kind of unflinching focus that made him want to duck his head and hide, especially coupled as it was with a strange softness about the man's mouth. Luckily, Jeremy's hand had found its way to his cock, and he was giving it an agonizingly slow pull as he said:

"God, you're gorgeous."

"Jez."

Jeremy nudged at his hip, saying, "Lie on your back."

Richard complied, unsurprised to see Jeremy sit up and move into position between his legs. He thought maybe Jeremy was going to suck him or else bring him off with his hands, leaving him wobbly and shaky but somehow whole, but instead Jeremy reached out and threaded his fingers through Richard's. As he lowered himself over Richard's body, he brought Richard's hands back and up over his head, holding them there, Richard stretched out on display in front of him.

He would've felt too naked, too vulnerable, if Jeremy hadn't immediately lowered all his weight onto him and fitted their hips together again so he could thrust just as they had been. But this was better. Richard liked to feel Jeremy so solid above him, pressing him down without crushing him, using his strength and size to rut against him roughly, slowly, perfectly.

It didn't take long before Richard felt the white hot pulse of an orgasm rush over him, and he shot off between them. Jeremy gave a few more thrusts against him before he pushed himself up onto his knees. Richard watched him slick up his cock with Richard's come and give himself a few hard, fast strokes. He spilled over his fist and onto his own stomach, narrowly missing the bedclothes. 

Collapsing onto his back, Jeremy groused, "Why is sex with you always so messy?" 

"Why is sex with you always so _Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf_?"

"It just is."

"Ditto."

"I suppose I'll have to take a shower now."

"'s all right. I'll clean you up."

Jeremy turned his head to look at him. "What if I wanted a nice lazy shower with my… " He rolled his eyes. "Have we figured out a word less ridiculous than boyfriend?"

"Not as yet."

"Damn."

"Sounds like some kind of teenage nonsense, yeah?"

"Fitting, I suppose. Unless I look in the mirror, I don't exactly feel fifty five."

"Fifty four."

"What?"

"You're not fifty five yet."

"Oh, hell."

"You can't be fifty five because I'm not forty six yet."

"When did you get so old?"

"About nine years after you did."

"Fantastic," Jeremy said with a smug grin. "Because I'm in no way even close to being old yet."

"Thank goodness for that."

Jeremy suddenly gave his thigh a sharp pat and sat up.

"Shower?" he asked.

"What? A quarter of an hour ago you were too tired to do anything."

"Wasn't too tired to do you," he said, waggling his eyebrows and rising to his feet.

Richard snorted out a laugh. "Fine. You've convinced me."

"I promise, no shenanigans, just washing."

Richard sat up slowly, calling after him,"I make no such promises."

Jeremy looked back at him, grinning, and said, "I can't decide if that's terrifying or I'm secretly counting on it."

"Score two for clumsy seduction," Richard murmured to himself as he rose out of bed and followed Jeremy into the bathroom.


End file.
